Not Today
by IRead2MuchManga99
Summary: Arya flees the Tower of the Hand just as the slaughter begins. Between some combination of bravery and childish ignorance she makes the decision to go back. She could never know how much of a mistake such a decision would be and what she would see.


Her footsteps sounded like thunder in her ears as she ran down the halls of the Tower of the Hand. The sounds of her footsteps were nothing compared to the sounds coming from where she was running from though. She could hear the sound of metal striking against metal, the groans and cries of men as they were struck, _Ser_ Meryn's shouts, and Syrio's taunts all blending together in some brutal orchestra. Still she ran in search of her father as Syrio had instructed her to do. He would know what do. How to fix all of this.

She rounded a corner and saw some of her father's men. They were on one of their regular patrols she had become so adept at sneaking past during the late night hours when she wanted to see all the capital and Red Keep had to offer. But she forgot about all her adventures. Right now she had found help. She could bring them back to help Syrio and then they could both go and find father. And he would explain why this had happened. And then he would fix it. Like he always did. They saw her and went towards her in a light jog, their weapons making more noise than their footsteps. She made to call out to them until she saw the black and red crash into them from the perpendicular hallway. They turned their swords to fight them and she seemed to be forgotten. Their eyes told a different story though. They told her to run and never stop running until she was in her father's arms. One Stark guard raised his sword and shouted a battle cry but Arya couldn't hear it above the blood pounding in her ears as she ran again. She ran back to another junction in the hallways and heard more sounds of fighting. She ran pass more fights and more men in black and red. She squeezed her eyes shut when some of them reached out to grab her. Every time a Stark guard would notice and knock their hand away from her or in most cases cut it entirely off. They wouldn't let harm come to Lord Stark's daughter as long as they drew breath.

Everywhere she went her ears and eyes were assaulted with the sounds and sights of men fighting, of men dying. She didn't want to see any of this and kept running. She kept running until she was out the Hands tower and where the wagon that was supposed to take them home waited. She didn't know how she stepped over the bodies of the men around it and headed for the trunk in the wagon she recognized as hers. She had only brought the single one. Not needing all the ones for dresses Sansa had insisted on bringing. She only had one thing she wanted from it though.

The chest easily opened and she grabbed _her_ Needle from within it. She somehow felt better as she slid it through her belt. She wasn't a weak little girl like everyone saw her as and the next time someone tried to grab her, she would stick 'em with the pointy end. She hopped down from the wagon and made for the exit. Only the sounds of fighting made her stop. She slowly turned around and could almost see all the fights taking place. She could still hear the sounds even at the very edge of the tower. She couldn't just leave. Even if it was to find father. Those men had sworn loyalty to her father, but more importantly they were her friends. Syrio most of all.

Her small hands balled into fists as she turned back around to leave. It was stupid of her to try and head back inside. No matter what she thought she was still just a little girl who couldn't fight grown men. Well she could but no one else would believe. They would all try to protect her and get themselves hurt. Just like Robb and Jon had once they caught her climbing a tree that she had seen Bran do a thousand times. They had only wanted her to come back down though. They had only ended up hurting themselves trying to 'save' her. She had climbed down on her own just fine when she was good and ready! That hadn't stopped them from carrying her back and making her promise not to do it again in exchange for not telling mother though. She always thought people were underestimating her but this time it was true. She wished Robb and Jon were here not because she needed help. Any moment now they would come thundering in on their horses and save the day. One of them would pick her up and she wouldn't have to worry about all of this anymore.

Her brothers weren't coming though. She was all alone. No Jon, no Robb, and no Nymeria to save her. She stomped her foot in frustration and wanted to scream at how wrong everything was. She wanted to hit something. Break Meryn Trant's stupid looking face with his own helmet. Show Syrio and father that her lessons hadn't been for nothing. Show everyone who doubted her that she was just as able as everyone else.

"I'm going back in there." She said with such a finality that not even the gods be it the New or the Old could stop her.

She drew Needle just like she had practiced a thousand times and marched back the way she had come, determined to show everyone how wrong they were about her. Her courage failed her when she saw the corpses. She disappeared into one of the numerous tunnels at the sound of marching boots. Peeking out long enough to catch sight of Lannister red on the hunt. She hid there. She didn't know who long she hid. Waiting with only the rats and spiders of the passageways keeping her company. Finally the sound of footsteps faded and there was no more clanking of armor. There was only silence. There wasn't a sound in the tower of the Hand.

Slowly she crept out of her hiding spot, shaking the dust and cobwebs out of her hair as she took her first few steps of freedom.

"Is anyone there?" She spoke as loudly as she dared. "Anyone?"

There wasn't a response from anyone so she wandered the halls, looking up and down them for anyone. All she saw were still forms on the floor, most of them her father's men.

Men that had come with them from Winterfell because they loved her father and his family. Swearing to protect them even if it cost them their lives.

She had to look away from their open eyes.

"I need to find Syrio." She spoke with conviction, giving herself a goal in what had become a battlefield. She needed to find her teacher.

She ran through the halls. Only silence meeting her ears and the still forms of her father's men meeting her eyes. She continued on. Her mind couldn't focus on the task at hand though. All the bodies. So many of her father's men, her family's servant. Just body upon body in the halls of the Tower of the Hand. All the people they had brought with them from Winterfell seemed to have been killed. Arya found herself praying for Old Nan to not be among the dead. She took back every single criticism she had ever had of the old woman. She wished she could see anyone. Just anyone alive. Their eyes open but not unblinking. The accusing stares they directed at her. Blaming her for causing all of this. Causing the rift between two of the great houses of Westeros. Going all the way back to the Kingsroad when Nymeria had attacked Joffrey. When Sansa had lied. When everything had started going wrong.

She shook her head to drive the thoughts from them. To focus back on finding Syrio. She finally found the door of the room they had been training in. She let out a cry of joy as she forced open the door.

She regretted coming back as she looked upon the scene. Saw what happened to her teacher. Saw what Meryn Trant had done on the orders of Cersei Lannister.

She threw up.

There was nothing else one could do when faced with such a scene. All her courage left her as what had been in her stomach did. Neither her courage nor her food remained after only a few moments. She couldn't look away though. Couldn't tear her eyes away from what no child, no, what no one should ever see.

Instead of turning around and running away as fast as she could. Arya Stark took a hesitant step forward. Then another. And another. And another. She walked towards Syrio's corpse almost as if she were a magnet drawn to it.

She fell to her knees next to the mutilated corpse of her friend and instructor.

So many cuts littered his body. His clothes were soaked in his blood. Easily done with so many cuts and gashes on his body.

The first sword of Braavos hadn't run though. The holes in his legs made that seem impossible. It didn't even look like they could support his weight.

His fingers laid in pieces around his body. She didn't know if they had done that before or after they had killed him as some final insult so he couldn't even hold a sword in the funeral grasp she had seen before her mother would turn her away from the body.

Worse of all were his eyes.

No, they didn't stare at him like the other bodies in the Tower. No, this was worse. So much worse.

They were gone. Gouged out of the Braavosi's head. She couldn't even close the eyes of her teacher. She couldn't see where his eyelids had even begun.

She tried anyway. By the old gods did she try to close his eyes over what seemed to be an endless abyss into darkness. Her hands only came away bloody.

"You said not today." Arya slowly spoke to the corpse of her teacher. "We say not today to the god of death. Why didn't you say it?" she knew this was stupid to do but she didn't care. "Why didn't you tell him not today!" she screamed as she shoved the body, the only thing coming of it was more of Syrio's cooling blood coating her hands.

She cried. She cried as all the deaths hit her at once. She cried as she realized how useless everything she had done was. How she had ran at the first sight of danger. How she had hidden when maybe she could've done something. Everything came out. She tried to wipe her tears away with bloody hands but it was useless. Only leaving red smears on her face.

She cried so long that she cried herself hoarse, helpless trying to stop it. The tears turning red before they hit the ground as they washed some of the blood from her face.

But even as she cried, one thought drove the others from her mind as it took root. Slowly but surely it established itself as the only thing she could think about. The only thing that made her eventually get up and somehow wash the blood from her face and her hands. Somehow made her leave behind the bodies of Syrio and all her father's men. Told her that one little girl couldn't see to one of them, let alone all of them.

The thought kept her going as she slept in Flea Bottom. Drove her to hunt for food and listen to the people as they passed her by, uncaring of another urchin in Flea Bottom. A few men stared at her but she would always disappear, holding Needle in an alley as she listened to only the sound of her breathing despite their search for her.

The thought kept her alive even as Yoren buried her face in his chest. Even as she heard the sword when she couldn't see it.

One thought filled her mind as she looked back from the wagon at the damned city that was King's Landing.

'I'm not going to die today, because I'm going to kill Meryn Trant. I'm going to kill them all.'

* * *

 **AN: I don't like the summary but couldn't think of anything else and this thing wouldn't be published if I just kept trying to get it perfect. Any help with improvement on it would be deeply appreciated.**

 **This was a little gruesome and dark towards the end but I just think that there had to be something to Arya killing Meryn Trant like that at the end of Season 5 and with Season 7 right around the corner it got me thinking of her and what she's going to do and what names she's going to cross off her list next.**

 **I also got to thinking on how messed up Arya was after everything she went through.**

 **This was born from that combination.**

 **Hopefully you found this interesting at least.**


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